


Bestiality

by casey_sms (shinygreenwords), SlytherinMalfoySnape (shinygreenwords)



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Bestiality, Dubious Consent, F/M, Horror, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Seduction, secondary character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinygreenwords/pseuds/casey_sms, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinygreenwords/pseuds/SlytherinMalfoySnape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dark re-writing of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. What if the staff had not been turned into cute teacups but were imprisoned in the castle instead? Belle/Beast, Chip/Beast. SLASH. Dub-con, underage, violence, abuse of power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bestiality

**Author's Note:**

> Chip is the little teacup that turns into a boy in the Disney version of "Beauty and the Beast". This is a dark!au in which Chip has always been a boy.

_Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. His parents travelled the world, abandoning their people and their only son. Although he had everything he desired, the prince was lonely and unhappy. Some thought he was spoiled, selfish and unkind but they did not know that he had no one who cared for him. One winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. She warned him not to be deceived by appearances. The prince knew the legend of the Trojan horse so he turned the old woman away. After his second dismissal, the old woman turned into a beautiful but dangerous enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but she would not accept it. She believed that there was no love in his heart and punished him cruelly by transforming him into a hideous beast. The enchantress placed a powerful spell on the castle. Ashamed and mocked for his monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his twenty-first year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time..._

Chip can recall the story with perfect clarity. He could still remember the way his mother had told it to him, frail and sick, rasping out the story of the Beast on her sickbed. His mother told him that story many times, to remind him of his purpose. She'd say, I named you Charles so you will always be called a free man. In her final lucid moments, she wrung her tattered apron in worn hands, purple dress soaked with sweat in her delirium. She was a beast to do that to him, she choked out, make me proud my beloved son. Not long after, she descended into incoherency and the illness took her.

He fell into the lazy comfort of routine. Like his mother, Chip was in charge of tea, except now he made it instead of merely holding the cup for his mother as he did when he was a child. He served his Master with ease, making his usual evening drink, letting it steep for exactly three and a half minutes before stirring in a dollop of cream and four teaspoons of sugar. The Master liked his tea scalding hot and in a large mug.

Not even the arrival of the old man stirred the castle from its daily rhythms. The Beast usually kept unsuspecting trespassers prisoner, enough to frighten them into not revealing the location of the once-beautiful palace or its cursed condition to anyone. The townsfolk were discouraged from visiting the Beast by the stories spread by his staff that had deserted him when they saw his fearful form. Only Chip and his mother had stayed behind, having nowhere else to go. The castle was a grand home and his mother told him that there was nothing to be frightened of in the dark. It was what lay outside of it that was dangerous, she'd say before forbidding him to venture beyond the castle's gate.

So year after year the crimson rose began to wilt and the magical petals fell. They left behind a cloud of dust, a flickering glow like the dying embers of a fire before losing their luminosity. Then his mother died. Another petal fell. Then another. And another. The rosebud was less full than it had been; tapering at the point where it bowed. One by one, its silken petals were being stripped, slowly counting down its days until it was a shrivelled and empty calyx. Now there was only one petal left. The Beast's paws left streaks on the glass dome like tears. Chip watched his Master gaze intensely into the glass dome as if willing it could make it happen. Nothing had changed, still, except that his Master was more desperate.

Then she turned up.

Belle.

She was beautiful and she knew it. With a sweep of her dark eyelashes, what she desired was hers. Belle strutted down the streets of the quaint Parisian village she lived in and pretended she couldn't see the stares following her. She had an impossibly small waist but she was anything but fragile. Her father, the inventor of the town, had ingrained in her the power of knowledge from a young age.

Chip could see it play out in his head like his Master's magic mirror. Belle would ride up to the towering black wrought iron gate, smiling beneath her hood. She would throw it back and let the rain drench her as her eyes lusted after the dark beauty of the castle. She would tread on her father's hat, leaving it sodden in the rain. Then she would paint on the perfect picture of distress on her doll-like features as she pushed open the doors. "Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?"

He heard her as he was bringing down his Master's tea. When he noticed that she was a beautiful maiden, his heart was filled with a guilty hope and protectiveness on his Master's behalf. Visitors agitated his Master. Hoping to avoid trouble, Chip stepped forward to greet her.

Even in the dim lighting, Belle could see that he was as white as his starched tunic. Though he was a stranger to the sun's embrace, he had an ethereal glow about him. His left hand held a silver candleholder with three dripping columns of wax, Belle was struck by how much he resembled the tallest candlestick. He could easily have been part of the furnishing in the decrepit palace. His hair which graced his shoulders was tinted with reddish streaks, like a candle's flame. His features were pinched, unsmiling.

"My father got lost in the storm. Oh I'm so worried for him. My horse led me here. Is he alright? I'm Belle, his only daughter. Please, I need somewhere to stay. Would it be alright if I stayed here for the night?" She made herself sound breathless and panicked. She shivered for effect, peeling off her wet cloak, knowing that her thin dress was soaked, her nipples clearly showing.

He inclined his head towards her, "Charles at your service, my lady." He forced his eyes away from her chest, feeling a strange yet familiar stirring in his loins. "Your father is here and is being taken care of."

Belle noticed the effect she had on Charles. "Prince Charles," she said unctuously, curtsying. She thrust her wet, ample bosom in his view.

He looked away with a shake of his head, the flushing of his face betraying him. "No, my lady, it's only Charles, though my master calls me Chip," Chip added the latter in a cold voice.

Belle hid her disappointment. "So, Chip," she smiled predatorily, "how long have you been here?"

His jaw stiffening at her presumptuousness, he answered, "Since I can remember, my lady."

"How long is that?" she asked, fascinated by his archaic, chivalrous manners.

"I cannot be sure...I approach my fourteenth year of age, my lady."

Belle gasped with over theatrical horror. "Where is your mother, child?"

"If I remember correctly, she passed away not long after I turned ten," he recalled in clipped tones.

"I am sorry."

He suppressed a sneer. She must think me daft, he thought darkly, as if I could not see through her kind. "There is no need to be, my lady. If you'll excuse me, I must ask my Master's permission - "

The upstairs door was thrown open with a booming roar that could be heard over the sound of the thunder and rain lashing the castle. "Who is she? Who dares trespass?"

Belle did not have to feign panic at the dark blur jumping right in front of her. Without looking, she knew who she was speaking to but his presence startled her. "It is only I, Belle. Please tell me where my father is. He is old and frail and I must take care of him." She threw herself at his hairy feet.

The Beast roared again, pacing in the shadows. He squared his shoulders, looking like one of the gargoyles that guarded the castle rooftop. "No. I am the master of the castle and I will deal with trespassers the way I see fit."

"But my father, he could die. Can't you see he will do you no harm? Please let him go."

"There's nothing you can do. He is my prisoner."

Belle carefully turned her face away as if she was grieved. Inside, she could feel victory within her grasp, she had waited for this very moment. She sent her father here so she could do this. A necessary sacrifice, he assured her. Genuflecting gracefully, she let her hair fall loose to add to the dramatic effect, "Oh, my Lord." She gave him her most beseeching look through full eyelashes and pleaded, "You must take me instead."

The Beast's anger dissipated and he stopped pacing, his cape fluttered gently behind him like a falling leaf. "But you must promise to stay here...forever." He let the light fall on him, casting his distorted shadow over her.

Hiding her triumphant smile, Belle collapsed her shoulders inwards, to signify her defeat. "You have my word," she acquiesced quietly though she clenched her fists defiantly in her lap.

When led to her room, she fell into the bed loudly with a mournful cry, clawing at the sheets, seemingly inconsolable though she did not shed any tears.

Chip stood with his face impassive, watching the display of hysterics with nonchalance. He had never been so attention-seeking, even as a child, he thought distastefully.

Finally, she spoke, her voice clear and musical. "Is it true what they say about him being cursed? That he is really the prince and his true love can set him free?"

"It is true," Chip confirmed, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "If you will excuse me my lady," Chip said with a bow and a backward shuffle. "I must attend to my Master."

Returning to the safety of the servant's quarters, Chip drew a bath. The girl was here, she wanted his Master. He felt the dark seed of want planted in him and tried to scrub it from his body as tendrils of jealousy took root. As he thought of the last petal falling, he came violently in his hand. He sat in the cold water, sated, still tingling from the coarse soap.

Belle relished in the power of knowing the Beast's secret and that he didn't know that she _knew_. Soon, it would be him that should fear her. Once she had him, she would have his throne. So Belle started her psychological war. She looked at herself in the mirror appraising her own appearance. She bathed in water scented with rose petals. She had rummaged through the old dresser in the room and put on a golden dress with yellow ruffles. It was slightly stained at the bottom and a tear had been mended on the side but she paid it no notice. It clung to her narrow waist, the neck just gracing the swell of her pale breasts. She delicately painted her lips and cheeks with rouge. Perfect. She called for Chip.

"How do I look, Chip?"

"Beautiful as always, my lady."

"Thank you, Chip." It was a dismissal.

Chip knew that he had to act soon. None of the occupants that had come had been as beautiful or as determined as she. "If I may speak freely, My Lady?"

"Of course, Chip, do so."

"You will not succeed in your endeavours."

Her gaze snapped to his immediately. She was surprised to hear the confident mocking tone in his voice.

Chip clarified with a smirk, "Only true love can set him free. You have to love him, and he, you. You are too late. You have until tonight to make him fall in love with you and you know you do not love him. You only want his throne. This castle is deserted. Do you truly think that when you set him free you will have a happily ever after? He has lived as a beast for so long that he knows nothing else. Just by the way he eats, you know what I say is true."

"Then why do you stay?"

"Because I have always been here. This is my home. I have served my Master ever since I could walk. You know nothing about my Master. You are not worthy of him."

Belle face darkened in anger. Chip did not think she looked beautiful at all with her face twisted with jealousy. The green-eyed beast danced across her features. "I order you to leave me."

Chip laughed, standing defiantly. "The power you had was the power I gave you, I can just as easily take it away." He lifted his chin and commanded, "Leave this place, never to return and I will not reveal your deception to my Master."

"And if I do not?"

"Then I expose you for the harlot you are." Chip chuckled into the dim room. "And let me tell you, the Beast does not take kindly to being deceived." With a cruel smile, Chip added, "Do you really think you are the first to wear that dress? The last one to wear it is buried somewhere in this castle."

Belle was horrified and frightened, putting her hand to her painted lips to stifle a cry. Her fingers came away stained with red. Like blood. Her perfection was smeared, her smile broken. "Don't you see I, too, have nowhere to go? My father is a silly inventor who will never get anywhere. I have no money, no dowry. No one cares for my knowledge. I only have my looks. Where else have I to go? What would you have me do?"

"It is a little late to plead sympathy now." Chip's lip curled in disdain and he turned from her.

Belle grabbed Chip's hand before he could walk away. "We can do this together. Please don't tell him. I will set you free too!"

Chip only sneered at the offer, wrenching his grip from hers. "You cannot promise me what you'll never have." Chip had no pity for the wenches after his Master's fortune. "Leave."

He watched Belle run from the castle with a satisfied grin on his face.

When his Master called him, Chip attended to him immediately.

"What is taking her so long? Why have you not summoned me for dinner? Is she not coming?"

Chip lowered his gaze respectfully to hide his victory. Tonight, finally, all his efforts would come to fruition. Steadying his voice, he said solemnly, "She is not coming, Master. She has left the castle."

Disbelief twisted his Master's face. "WHAT? She has left me?" The Beast gives in to his primal urges, tearing at his bed sheets and fine clothes. He snapped the ribbon out of his hair, rage pumping through him. "How dare she? I will have her father killed for this."

Chip had been prepared for his Master's anger but the furious force of it still made his hands tremble, betraying his fear. He winced at the rattling tea tray, willing himself to be still and silent. A perfect servant.

"Leave me," the Beast roared, shredding the newly replaced drapes in the room. He raked his nails down the walls where deep gouges already scarred the grey surface. "You will leave me just like the rest of them. It is useless. I will be like this forever." The rage gave way to grief. Chip knew his Master enough to see the subtle change. The Beast raked his claws until they are worn down, splintered, bleeding. The sight pulled at Chip's heartstrings like a marionette's hands.

"Master, I am your most loyal servant."

"Leave. Me," his Master said through clenched teeth. "You can do nothing for me."

Chip steeled himself. "I apologise. I cannot and will not leave you."

His master knocked him down for his insubordination with one backward swipe, the tray flying out of his hands. Chip landed with a dull thud but he stubbornly approached his Master.

"Stupid stupid boy." The Beast hurled a candleholder into the mirror next to Chip, raining shards on the boy. Chip flinched but refused to abandon his course. The Beast swept Chip up by the front of his shirt, the claws shredding the worn material. Then he threw him into the wall. The Beast watched Chip rise stiffly onto his knees and crawl painfully towards him again, knees and hands bloodied in the process.

"Why are you not afraid of me?"

Chip knelt at his Master's feet, head bowed. "You are the only one I have left, Master." Chip knew that he was not what his Master had wanted, but he had what he needed. He loved his Master. Even though he may not undo the curse, Chip knew that _this_ would be his undoing.

"I am a Beast."

"No. You are beautiful, My Lord."

The Beast heard the reverent tone but he cannot believe the words. "You lie to me!"

Chip's eyes widened as his master reached for his throat, squeezing. He forced himself to say in a calm voice, "What can I do to make you believe me, Master?"

"Why should I believe you?" The Beast lifted his servant off the ground but Chip did not fight him.

"I have never left you. I am your most loyal servant." Chip stared at the Beast, honesty in his eyes. "My only desire is to serve your best interests."

"I could kill you." The Beast's voice is hoarse like ripped paper. He lets Chip down, thinking that the boy will scramble away from him.

Chip has nothing to lose. This is the moment that he has been waiting for and now that it has come, Chip can feel it flow in him like arousal. Chip put his hand on his Master's arm, speaking with surprising tenderness. "I love you."

The Beast stared numbly at his servant. Half of the boy's face was bruised and swelling, his lip split and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Aware that convention suggested that he should return the sentiment, the Beast felt the words stick in his throat. It seemed ironically anticlimactic. A glance at the one untouched corner of the room revealed that the single petal was still glowing, getting fainter by the minute. He knew now was the time that he should say he loves the boy but his conscience whispered that this was the one thing he could hold onto that would not make him a monster. He should not love the boy.

Debris littered the room. Near the rose, a crystal decanter glittered with expensive liquor. Chip does not know what to do but he kept his hands busy so he poured a drink for his Master and one for himself. Chip pressed the glass into his Master's paw and glanced outside to distract himself from the brief touch which his hand tingle with warmth. The wind howled like a tortured man deep in the dungeons, knowing that he has been abandoned.

Chip looked at his Master steadily, raised his glass in a toast and downed it in one. Then he stepped out of what remained of his clothes into the moonlight, naked. The Beast raked his gaze upon the boy and realised that he was becoming a man. There are sparse tufts of hair on his chest and fine golden hairs from his navel, leading downwards.

"I don't have anything to give you in return. Leave me while you can. I will hurt you. I am not a saint, if you tempt me further..." The Beast wrenched out one last compassionate lifeline. He was not a monster. He would throw away his freedom in a heartbeat if he could save this misguided boy.

"Master." Chip's voice was deep but still cracked at the edges, not having permanently settled.

The Beast was captivated. He allowed his servant to undress him like he has so many times before. This was the first time he had noticed the shrewd glint in the boy's eyes. He could smell the boy's sweet breath on his face like an aphrodisiac, intoxicating. His eyes mesmerised him, the blue orbs peculiarly luminous in the dark room. The boy threaded his hand through his mane, and pushed him down onto the bed in a hypnotic arch. The boy's hair surrounded him like a fiery halo and the Beast is reminded of how unlike Belle he is.

Rocking forward, Chip watched as the last petal fell from the enchanted rose and bent to claim a kiss from the Beast.


End file.
